Gravitate
by RougeaufSherlock
Summary: "He kisses John because he loves him too. He won't say it, but he does. He kisses John in a swirl of wind and rustling leaves because he likes how John tastes, and he likes how John smells, and he likes how he feels on his body and tongue. They kiss because for the first time in their lives, they are truly in love." Trigger Warnings for drug abuse


This one felt really heavy. I just kinda got sad and wrote it. Warning for major character death.

* * *

John reaches for it because it's there, sheathed in black leather and so close that the stray fingers brush the back of his naked hand. It tingles and warms him against the breeze that whips like a coarse and icy sheet. Sherlock's hand is teasing him, so close yet too far away. It teases at companionship, warm and pink against the lonely grey lumps of street that fade in and out of its fraying snow blanket. Sherlock is John's salvation, so John reaches for his hand.

Sherlock accepts John's hand because he likes the way it feels in his. It offers security in strength against the emptiness of these streets. He accepts it because when his hand brushes against John's, it leads him home, wherever home may be. Sometimes it's by a fireplace, sometimes in a snowy bank, but John is the constant. John is home. John is Sherlock's salvation, so Sherlock accepts his hand.

It is the first time they touch like this.

They know in this moment, that it won't be the last.

* * *

John hugs Sherlock because he's breathing, because his heart is still beating, because the drug did not take his life. He hugs Sherlock because his skin has been reduced to a thin sheet of ice. He promised never again. He promised. John hugs Sherlock because he's angry and because Sherlock needs him. John hugs Sherlock because he needs to cling to something, because he can't allow the rock beneath his world to shatter.

Sherlock returns the gesture when he wakes because John is there, furious, but there. John calls him a bastard. A bloody idiot and a bastard. But Sherlock hugs back because John is warm and John is safe, and most of all because he needs him. He's not sure where he just came from, and he's not sure just where he is, and he needs to cling to something lest he shatter.

Sherlock promises it's the last time.

John doesn't believe him.

* * *

Their first kiss begins with Sherlock. He is tense, stressed, and needs the drug. But John is there, and he needs John even more. He helps Sherlock heal, grounds him, and keeps his focus away from his addiction. He stays close, sometimes touches him on the shoulder, sometimes on the hand, and sometimes entraps his body in long, heavy embrace when Sherlock wants to shatter into pieces. Sherlock is confused, delirious, and John lips are steady, parted, and inviting. He is hesitant, shifting forward slowly, and then John accepts him whole-heartedly.

It is Sherlock's first kiss.

John will no longer accept anyone else.

* * *

Not a moment passes in the following weeks where they don't need to be entrapped in each other. They hold hands on the street and sometimes during cases. They kiss in back alleyways and many times in the flat.

Sex has always been an option, lingering in the shade and crevices between them, and becomes a reality as naturally as it is for one to breathe.

Sherlock wants it and John wants it too. They've wanted it for so long, but the spark was never just right to kindle the flame. The time is right now. It's nothing uncomfortable, no words are spoken, it just happens with the inevitability of entropy.

It begins after a thrilling case. They are laughing and then suddenly they are kissing and touching, and in moments like these the world might seem to stop, but to Sherlock and John, it continues to revolve faster and faster, driving their need for each other. The world does not stop for a moment, especially not for their moment. Their tongues chase, their hands search, and they explore everything about each other. They touch and feel touched. Clothes go next, and it's not long before John presses Sherlock into the mattress and pushes deeply into his welcoming body.

* * *

John kisses Sherlock because he loves him. They have a moment to each other beneath the shade of autumn trees where they laugh about Sherlock's brother and John's missing shoe. He kisses Sherlock because this is the moment he's professed his love, definitively, once so that Sherlock hears it, and twice so that he understands. He kisses Sherlock because he likes how Sherlock tastes, and he likes how Sherlock smells, and he likes how he feels on his body and his tongue.

Sherlock kisses back because he's beginning to believe John. He kisses John because he loves him too. He won't say it, but he does. He kisses John in a swirl of wind and rustling leaves because he likes how John tastes, and he likes how John smells and how he feels on his body and tongue.

They kiss because for the first time in their lives, they are truly in love.

* * *

Sherlock hugs John because he sees no other option. John's world has been sheathed in dark clouds that will persist as parasites on his life. Inoperable, they tell them. Three months at best. He hugs John because they both need it, and Sherlock won't let go.

John hugs back because he doesn't know what else to do. He hugs back because life is too short.

* * *

John takes Sherlock again beneath the black duvet. John is angry and confused, and Sherlock promises he'll be there for him just as John was for him. John is upset and unstable, and Sherlock feels every ounce of negativity that is flooding John spill out in each violent thrust, but he wants it. He wants to take it all away.

Then John hurts Sherlock. He cuts him open on the headboard.

* * *

John apologizes incessantly because he feels guilty. Sherlock does not need to be the recipient of his violence and anger, but Sherlock will not accept John's apologies. He wants John to be angry. Just now. Just this once so he can be happy again for whatever time he has left. Sherlock allows John to patch him up because it's not a bad wound, and Sherlock knows at least he will recover. He hides the sadness he feels that John doesn't have the same luxury.

* * *

John and Sherlock fight for petty reasons not even they understand. It's not the first time they've fought, but it feels the most significant. John won't join Sherlock because he does not feel well enough, and Sherlock is angry. He blames John for everything- for coming into his life, for taking his hand the first time, for being sick.

John, unwilling to listen to it, walks out. He is gone for three days.

* * *

On the third day, Sherlock receives a phone call.

* * *

John holds Sherlock's hand because he needs to know he's still alive, suspended already in darkness and grim certainty. He holds Sherlock's hand because Sherlock is breaking apart beside him- guilty, mindlessly apologizing, mindlessly mouthing words that John isn't sure even Sherlock understands. He holds Sherlock's hand because there is nothing else he can do now, and he's not ready to let go.

Sherlock holds John's hand because the sand in his hourglass has run too low. His skin is pale, his eyes are falling, and his heart is slowing so much that he can count every second between each beat. He holds John's hand because there is nothing else he can do now, and he's not ready let go.

It's time to let go.

They take John away, and Sherlock lets go.

* * *

Sherlock reaches for it because it's there, on his nightstand, in plain sight because there is no one to hide it from anymore. He finds the vein, pricks his wrist, and pushes the drug down in. Suddenly he is soaring. A smile tugs the edges of his white lips and relaxes his red eyes. The ice suspended in his mind seeps down, deep down into his freezing body, and he is cold and he is still.

He sees John again, looking disapprovingly down at him, but there is nothing to be done anymore. He extends a hand and Sherlock takes it, following him out of that room, leaving his final winter in their wake.


End file.
